


Engineered for Perfection

by Emma_Oz



Category: Andromeda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Oz/pseuds/Emma_Oz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyr involuntarily raised an eyebrow and began to formulate a polite way to decline.  Humans were so unpredictable about sex, they didn’t treat it in the straightforward way of Nietzscheans and discussing sex with them required special tact.</p><p>It would appear, however, that gathering his drink addled thoughts had taken rather longer than he had intended, because Harper had taken silence for acquiescence and begun stroking his side softly.</p><p>Tyr cleared his throat.  ‘This is very.... flattering... but Nietzscheans don’t....’ </p><p>Harper’s hand crept beneath his shirt and felt so warm and gentle.  ‘That is, Nietzscheans don’t , or at least, only very rarely.... mmmmm....’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Engineered for Perfection 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written half way through season one.

 

The crew had been celebrating the return of the most recent planet to the reformed Commonwealth long and hard.  First at the formal and rather stuffy diplomatic reception, and then again in a boozy party on Andromeda.  Trance had played some music and they danced energetically.  Trance’s skin was flushed a royal purple with exertion, Beka was laughing as she moved and Harper danced with intensity and a great lack of coordination.  Even Tyr danced, perhaps because Rev had brought out some high quality alcohol he’d traded for on the last-but-one planet.  Even Hunt had loosened up a little.

After Beka and Trance went to paint Rev’s nails, Tyr and Harper walked back to the crew’s quarters together.  Harper was bouncing unsteadily and Tyr found himself looking easily over the shorter human’s head, trying to steer him away from the walls.  

Tyr turned a corner but Harper kept walking straight ahead, so Tyr tugged on his arm until he straightened out.  It seemed easier to tuck the human in close to him, and moving him nearer had the bonus of allowing Tyr to smell clearly the clean human scent which had been trailing at the edges of his senses all evening.

As Harper reached the door to his room, he fumbled with the keypadd and turned to look at Tyr.  ‘Wanna come back to my room?’ he said, ‘I’ve got some brandy that you have to taste to believe.’

Tyr shrugged and entered.  Stepping gingerly over the mess of the room, he sat on the edge of the bed.  He picked up some electrical components and dropped them to the floor as Harper went to a storage unit and brought out a green bottle and two glasses.  

‘Drink it slowly,’ Harper said as he handed over one glass unsteadily.

Tyr sipped and it really was worth savouring.  

He swallowed faster than he had intended when Harper flopped on the bed beside him, gently put a hand on his thigh and said, ‘So, have you, like, come back to my room?  Or just come back to my room?’

Tyr involuntarily raised an eyebrow and began to formulate a polite way to decline.  Humans were so unpredictable about sex, they didn’t treat it in the straightforward way of Nietzscheans and discussing sex with them required special tact.

It would appear, however, that gathering his drink addled thoughts had taken rather longer than he had intended, because Harper had taken silence for acquiescence and begun stroking his side softly.

Tyr cleared his throat.  ‘This is very.... flattering... but Nietzscheans don’t....’ 

Harper’s hand crept beneath his shirt and felt so warm and gentle.  ‘That is, Nietzscheans don’t , or at least, only very rarely.... mmmmm....’

Harper kissed his shoulder lightly and wriggled against him.  He smelled of alcohol and smoke and another, fainter scent which Tyr identified as Harper’s arousal.  ‘Sex, for Nietzscheans is about procreation... and as we can clearly not procreate... not that I wouldn’t be...’

Harper stilled his hands and knelt on the bed so he was looking in Tyr’s eyes.  ‘I thought Nietzscheans always competed to get what they wanted?’  he said.

‘Yes.’

‘So, don’t you want this?’

Tyr paused for a heartbeat, and then rolled back onto the bed taking Harper with him.  Harper smiled breathtakingly at him and bit lightly him on the chin.  There was a localised whirlwind as Tyr removed their clothes, and a flurry of motion as Harper hindered him by stroking the dark skin on his chest or gently biting his fingers. 

 

*****

 

An endless time later Tyr paused, embarrassed to be at a loss.  Foreplay was valued among Nietzscheans, but only as a means to consummation which would ideally lead to procreation.  He could see a hundred ways to move this forward, but no way to reach a conclusion.

Harper twisted impatiently and bumped against him with his hip.  When Tyr didn’t react, he flipped suddenly around so he was face to face, so to speak, with Tyr’s erect and very interested cock.  He looked up at Tyr who was laid out like a dark marble statue.  Harper wriggled an eyebrow, and then reached out to delicately lick the very tip of Tyr’s cock. 

Tyr bucked in excitement.  Harper’s mouth was warm and his tongue bumped against Tyr’s cock in a distracting way.  Harper took Tyr into his mouth and then let him slide almost all the way out before nuzzling on the head.

Tyr moaned and reached out to take Harper’s member in his hand.  Harper moaned in appreciation and the vibrations around his cock made him pull harder on Harper.  

Harper pulled his mouth clear for a moment and grinned at him.  ‘Hell of a feedback loop, huh?’  

Before Tyr could frame a reply, Harper had filled his mouth again, setting up a steady rhythm which charmed Tyr, intoxicated him.  Harper made a small movement and suddenly Tyr slid part of the way into this throat.  Tyr jerked convulsively, grunted in surprise and came in spurts into the clutching warmth.

Tyr had never come in someone’s mouth before.  To waste seed in that way was un-Nietzschean.  But the tightness of Harper’s throat around him and the feeling that he had slipped right inside the human was overwhelming.

He shuddered as his climax slowed and finished. Relaxed, he slid back out of Harper’s throat and into his mouth.  Harper made a muffled sound and Tyr suddenly wondered how the human had breathed before.  He pulled out altogether and put his hand on Harper’s heaving chest.

Harper licked the corner of his mouth, drawing a drop of cum in.  ‘Good, hmm?’

Tyr nodded and looked at his hand which was still clasped around Harper’s cock.  His hand was very dark, Harper’s cock was flushed purple and the contrast was beautiful.  ‘And now you,’ he said thickly.  He tightened his grip and Harper sighed, smiled, and came beatifically.

 

*****

 

The next day Harper, struggling with a hangover of monumental proportions, turned to Tyr.  Without introduction he cut to the core of what he wanted to say.  ‘Was that OK?  I mean, was it something you wanted to do?’

Tyr looked down at the smaller human.  ‘Do you really think you could make me do something I didn’t want to do?’

Harper accepted the insult without comment.  He flung his hand over his eyes and then squinted at Tyr through his fingers. ‘Then is it something you’d like to do again?’

Tyr nodded and then, very slightly, smiled.

 


	2. Engineered for Perfection 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written half way through season one.

 

What had been a routine visit to a supposedly allied world, had turned into a disaster. Half the crew had been left on the face of the planet and it was hours before Hunt could evade the fighter probes which had appeared and get close enough for pick up.

Tyr said nothing when Rev, Beka and Harper reappeared bruised but whole.  He maintained his silence as he stalked after Harper to his room.  

Tyr picked the younger man up and all but threw him onto the bed.  It was infuriating, enraging that Harper had been in danger, and worse yet that he had been in danger without Tyr.  He tugged impatiently at Harper’s ridiculous, baggy clothes and Harper glanced up at him and began to strip his clothes away.

Tyr could not resist touching him.  Such soft skin, such slight bones.  Harper was far smaller than a Nietzschean, of course, but somewhere along this line this had ceased to be symbol of Harper’s inferiority and become instead something familiar, something comfortable.

Tyr licked the line of Harper’s back, using his intimate knowledge of Harper to find his sweet spots.  He batted the human’s hands away when Harper tried to reciprocate.  He could not be distracted as his hands traced his body.  He was memorising Harper, learning him from the cellular level up.  

After another thwarted attempt to touch Tyr, Harper smiled sweetly and concentrated instead on expressing his pleasure as vocally as possible.  Tyr caressed him, licked him, bit him. The Nietzschean’s large hands ran over his whole body, pausing perhaps over the scars he bore and the new bruises.  His fingers traced the white line on his hip delicately and ghosted over the tender tissue around the implant in his neck.  

Tyr lost himself in Harper’s body.  His scent filled the air and made it impossible to think of anything but the human.  He was unsure how much time had passed, only aware of an urgent need to touch Harper, to know him, to possess him.  The only reality was Harper’s moans and muted endearments, his impatient thrusts and the smell of arousal coming from him.

Very quickly Tyr reached the point where, had he been with a woman he would have taken her or been damned.  He bucked against his hip, snarling with frustration when the friction was insufficient.  The precum he was leaking traced a line against Harper’s body and he paused for a moment, holding Harper tightly in his arms.  Then he reached for Harper’s hands, intending to form them into a familiar, warm cocoon.

The human resisted momentarily and stretched in a way that made Tyr shiver and clutch him even closer.  Harper wriggled around to face him, ‘Want in?’ 

Tyr grunted and again thrust fruitlessly into the loose heat of Harper’s embrace.  He growled in impatience and frustration.

Tyr saw a light of realisation dawn in Harper’s blue eyes.  ‘This is one of those copulate for procreation things, isn’t it?....  Have I got a surprise for you.’

Harper’s chattering made no sense, but Tyr did react when Harper pulled away momentarily.  

‘Relax, I’m just getting some essentials,’ Harper said quietly and he scooted across the head to the dresser drawer.  He crawled back over the bed and waved a tube of lube at Tyr in a somewhat frenzied way.

‘Right, you use this’ - he waved the lube under Tyr’s nose - ‘to put this’ - he gripped Tyr’s cock firmly and Tyr virtually levitated off the bed - ‘in this’ - and he took Tyr’s hand and placed it over his anus.

Blood pounded in Tyr’s head.  He could barely think, he could certainly not frame a response.  Harper, lacking Nietzschean senses, must have taken his pause for reluctance because he started babbling to convince Tyr.  ‘It works, really.  I’m an engineer so I know when Tab A goes into Slot B.  You just have to stretch me a bit first... So come on.’

Harper wriggled backwards and one of Tyr’s fingers slipped momentarily inside his body.  Tyr jumped as if he had just touched an open circuit.  He was ridiculously close to coming right there and then, just from the feel of part of his body entering Harper’s.  He wanted to come, he wanted to scream, he wanted to turn Harper over and thrust into him with no regard for human frailty.

He paused and drew on his much vaunted control.  If Harper said lubrication was necessary, then Harper was to be lubricated.  He was much too small, too frail, too dear to be injured.

But there was no need to go slow about it.  He ripped the lubricant from Harper’s hand and shoved him back onto the bed.  Harper smiled as he bounced, and immediately spread his legs.

One finger crept back to find the entry to Harper’s body and the human let out a shuddering sigh.  ‘Ooooookay, quick learner.’

 

*****

 

Tyr was fascinated by the contrast in colour as his dark fingers slipped into Harper’s white flesh.  This was the third time he had watched this, but the contrast was still dizzying.

He could hear Harper’s talking, virtually shouting at him.  ‘Now! In me, right now!’  Harper’s legs hooked about him and he was tugged closer.  A part of his brain, a very faint and distant voice, was laughing at the bossiness of Harper, like a terrier pushing around a wolf hound.  But most of him was beyond thought of any kind.  He lunged forward and was lost in the warmth, the sweetness, the tightness of Harper’s body.

He pushed forward in one thrust, pushing until the base of his cock was nestled against Harper.  Distantly he could hear Harper shouting, but he couldn’t make out the words or even tell if there were words.  He was lost, lost in the carnality of the moment.  He bit down on Harper’s neck, drawing blood and marking him.  As the copper tang of blood filled his mouth he came, waves of light shaking through him.  He clutched Harper impossibly harder and slumped over him, staring at him but momentarily unable to focus.  He had never come so close to passing out in his life.

As he regained his senses he looked down at Harper who lay bonelessly in his arms.  Harper was perfectly motionless against the mattress.  He could see that Harper was breathing fast and the bite mark at the base of his neck was beaded with blood.  And though Tyr did not remember his spikes coming up, there were long, though shallow, marks across his belly where his arm spikes must have scraped. He felt suddenly sick.  ‘Wake up,’ he tapped Harper’s cheek, ‘Come on, wake up.’

Harper sighed and opened his eyes.  ‘Mmmmmm.... wow...’ he said softly.

‘Are you all right?’ Tyr ‘s tapping turned into a caress.

Harper’s eyes flipped open and he stared at Tyr.  ‘Are you kidding?’  he said in disbelief.  ‘I’m not all right, I’m fucking fantastic.’

Tyr tried to clarify.  ‘You passed out.  Are you hurt?’

Harper looked at him blankly, then laughed and hooked an arm around his neck to pull him down.  ‘No, I’m fine.  You didn’t hurt me at all.’

Tyr looked skeptically at the bruises on Harper’s arms where he had been held, but Harper laughed again and pulled the blanket up over the two of them.  ‘You’ve got to learn to take a compliment better.’

 


End file.
